


following the stones

by peternureyev



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Magical Creatures, written in 2013 soooo a trainwreck basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 01:09:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4000213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peternureyev/pseuds/peternureyev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A winding path lead through the foliage, engraved stones carefully placed around the border. If you looked carefully you could see that the small inscriptions were cautiously spelt out names, carefully scratched into the soft rocks. Someone had spent a long time doing this, and the young man wandering down the road wanted to know who.</p><p> </p><p>i wrote this in 2013 then posted it here because idk</p>
            </blockquote>





	following the stones

It was dark in the woods. The tall pine trees reached for the sky, their dark green needles piercing the dull grey air. A winding path lead through the foliage, engraved stones carefully placed around the border. If you looked carefully you could see that the small inscriptions were cautiously spelt out names, carefully scratched into the soft rocks. Someone had spent a long time doing this, and the young man wandering down the road wanted to know who.

He propped his unusual goggles up on his forehead and stepped onto the cream coloured pebble path, wincing at the loud crunch; any animals that were near would now be gone. Taking cautious steps, so not to unsettle any Calxa Bugs that may be hiding among the grit, he advanced forwards. This was, in fact, the perfect place to find them, as well as several other creatures like the class XXXX Sen’isset he’d been tracking for days. His father believed this was the last one in Britain, as there hadn’t been a report for 8 years. The Ministry of Magic had rather given up on Sen’issets, but if anyone was to find a 6 eyed fox hybrid, he would. _Off topic_ , he reminded himself. _You need to stop doing that, Rolf. One day you’ll get eaten by a troll._

He continued down the winding trail, carefully inspecting the rocks that adorned the path. They were what had caught his attention, those words engraved into tiny stones. Why would anyone do it? What did it mean? It intrigued him, and Rolf Scamander was the kind of man who was willing to spend hours looking for…well, anything.

_You are going to find who spends their life making rocks that no one ever sees. Instead of searching for the creature that could make your life amazing. You could prove to the ministry that your family have not turned mad. You could find a bloody Sen’isset. But no. The grandson of the most famous naturalist ever wants to follow the yellow brick…. stone road. Mad._

Not that the Ministry would particularly care. Shacklebolt was a nice enough guy, but to be honest, he really did raise an eyebrow at some of the ideas they’d bought to him. It was always, “I’m sorry Rolf, but we really are too busy to fund a…expedition right now.”

It was absolutely fair of course. He ought to keep his brain in check more often. The Minister was still clearing up after the war. Half the ministry building was smashed up, Hogwarts was still in ruins, the students running through debris to their classes, St Mungos’ was full of unfortunate cases, and even after two years there were some Death Eaters still at large, hiding out in dark forests.

Taking a step back the youth looked around. The rocks could easily have been a ploy to lead people into the lair of-

He scanned his brain for a well-known death eater.

Rodolphus Lestrange. He could be anywhere. Anywhere!

_Cut it out idiot! You are going to find who put these here, and then you can run. If you have to._

His dark shadow chased him down the road, skipping in and out of the rocky bottomed river, when finally, the carved pebbles ended. Looking around, Rolf saw a girl crouched at the bottom of a tree, her brow furrowed in concentration. She looked about his age, maybe a year or so younger. Her light blonde hair dangled in front of her face, glowing like burnished gold in the patch of sunlight. The stranger wore as odd a combination of clothes as Rolf did. Her hair was capped off by a strange blue cap with several wires sticking out of them. An weird pair of glasses sat on her face. You could vaguely see beneath the thick frames that her eyes were a soft grey-blue. As Rolf stepped forwards to say hello, and ask about her odd profession, a twig beneath his foot snapped.

The serene look faded and the girl jumped up, wand in hand.

“Expelliarmus!”

As she spoke, with a lilting Irish accent, Rolf felt his wand fly out of his hand. She caught it deftly and then, head on one side, like a little bird, she said plainly,

“Oh. You aren’t a Death Eater after all. Well, you certainly aren’t a Blibbering Humdinger.”

She laughed lightly at the joke, which made no sense at all, and then tossed the wand back.

“Who are you, and what are you doing?” Rolf asked bluntly, catching it. He did not take kindly to being disarmed and then compared to an imaginary creature.

“I could ask you the same thing!”

The girl sat back down, positioning herself against the tree, and then motioned for him to sit as well.

“I’m Luna Lovegood, and-“

Rolf couldn’t resist.

“I’ve heard of you! You fought in the battle of Hogwarts _and_ you’re on a chocolate frog card!”

Luna looked at him with a half reprimanding, half amused expression.

“Yes, and if you’ve finished acting half your age then I’ll continue. I was born, went to Hogwarts, fought in the battle, the end.”

He rolled his eyes, but then, it _was_ a bit abnormal that he had come and sat next to her and instantly asked for her life story.

“No, what are you doing now?”

She sighed.

“I lost a lot of people I love and care for, and I know people whose lives were ruined by loss. I have nothing to do with my life, so Professor Flitwick- a professor at Hogwarts- suggested I do this, a memorial to all those who died. Each name is a loved one lost.”

They sat there for a few minutes, her clever eyes taking in every crevice of his face. Rolf didn’t know what he thought of Luna. She was very calm, in a sort of pensive way, gazing off into the horizon, or swatting at the things on her head. At one point, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like _Nargles_ , she got up and walked around with a weird, multi-coloured device that made bleeping noises ever few seconds. Then she sighed, tossing the object back in her bag. Rolf could have sworn he saw a tear in her eye.

“So,” she said sitting back down, “What about you? Who are you?”

“Rolf Scamander.”

Seeing her eyes lighten he carried on

“Yes, as in Newt Scamander, Scamander. I’d say you’re about my age, but you’ve never seen me at Hogwarts because I was home-schooled. I don’t know why, I guess my parents were just rich enough.”

The last sentence he said bitterly. Thanks to his parents he’d never had a friend.

“I’ve always aspired to be a Magizoologist like my Grandfather, and that’s what I’m doing, I guess.”

“I’d love to be a Magizoologist too. My dad was one but….”

Rolf’s heart went out to her.

“He died?”

“No.” She said, shaking her head slightly. “Not dead but, but when my mother died, a part of him sort of….disappeared. He’d always been in his own world, but then, instead of donating the bulk of his time to real live creatures, he began to see imaginary beings. It was to cope with the loss, he became obsessive about it. The Quibbler had always been an odd magazine but with dad at the head it was one man’s fanatical dream printed on paper, a creation of hallucinations. When I got old enough, he taught me all of it. I was just the same as he was, and in some ways I still am, stuck in a habit. Then two years ago….the death eaters. Dad did too much. He’d got caught up in something else, helping Harry. They took me, and it was like he lost ma again. They tortured him, Rolf.”

A tear escaped from her eyes.

“He may not be dead, but he’s lost.”

She smiled sadly, her eyes downcast. Rolf turned away, saddened by her story, and also a little confused by the outpouring of emotions. He’d known her for less than ten minutes, yet he felt like he understood Luna. She was a little quirky, a little broken, and more than a little lonely. Running a gloved hand through his haystack hair, Rolf stood up awkwardly.

“Uh…it’s…it will, I…sorry,”

Groaning, the youth cursed his inability to speak coherently, nibbling on his lip as Luna smiled sadly.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have piled that onto you, but I just…needed to get it off my chest.”

“I understand,”

A still silence descended upon the clearing once more as Rolf looked down, suddenly insanely interested in his walking boots. _You shouldn’t have said that. In fact, why did you come here in the first place, it wasn’t worth it or anyth-_

His train of thought was interrupted by a quiet hiss from Luna. “Look, Rolf!”

Rolf jumped up and followed her gaze. An inquisitive purple head poked its way out of the undergrowth, sniffing at the wilted grass and Luna’s stone memorial. He gasped, fumbling for his wand or camera.

“Th-that’s a Sen’isset! I’ve been searching for it for days! Luna, you’re a genius!”

She smiled, bemused, as he bent down and began to coax the strange creature closer, all the while snapping photos of it and scribbling notes.

“You know what, Rolf Scamander?”

“What?”

“I think I could come to like you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of something I wrote a year and a half ago which can be found here: http://www.wattpad.com/story/14760002-when-rolf-met-luna-harry-potter-fanfiction  
> I'd love you to check it out and comment here how you think my writing has improved! 
> 
> eveningisgrey.tumblr.com


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